


Inside Your Pages

by hudsteith



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Album: A Night At The Opera (Queen), Album: Sheer Heart Attack, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Personal Journal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24412816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hudsteith/pseuds/hudsteith
Summary: John got curious. What Roger writes so much on that journal?
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 20
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got very stressed with the big plot of Our Parents and decided to use the 50th anniversary of Roger's personal journal wiriting about Queen to chill out :)  
> Hope y'all like it!

Sheer Heart Attack was getting recorded with the band having a new brainstorm everyday, especially Freddie. Each morning the main singer showed up with a new song for the album, and it was Brian, Roger and John’s job to say if it fit with the album or not. However the young band, full of steam and eagerness, were way too excited from making a third album, so good lyrics were requested.

John, during the last couple of weeks, was a bit curious with the blond drummer. He was being a bit more reserved than usual, throwing less tantrums than usual, and he’s constantly writing in a small journal he’s carrying around. At first John thought it was for some song ideas, but Roger already showed the band his single contribution for the album.

“What are you writing, Taylor?” asked John one day, his fierce eyes glued at the man in question.

Roger looked at the brunet, a bit surprised that someone was giving him attention. Then, something odd happened: he blushed.

The drummer was popular with the birds (and with some blokes as well, to be honest), and he was the one who normally made them blush. However, John had to agree that Roger seemed pretty with red cheeks.

“Just thoughts. Daily stuff,” Roger said, in a low tone, his eyes going back to the paper.

“He always liked to write his shenanigans at the end of the day since I met him,” Brian commented playfully. “He said it’d be nice to register important things, when he gets famous.”

“And I stand by that,” Roger nodded firmly, making John giggle softly.

“I just keep wondering what he writes about us there,” John murmured, standing up, walking next to the couch Roger was sitting on. 

John was very close to Roger's back, one step to the left and he could see what the blond was writing...

Before he could, Roger just closed his journal, looking at the bass player with a satisfied smile. “Nice try, mate.”

Roger and John knew each other for three years, and John could say it’s a challenge to be in a band with the drummer. He’s very different from him: easy-going, very cheerful (when he wants to) and charming. John couldn’t deny that sometimes he stopped what he’s doing just to admire the bandmate’s features.

“Darlings, can we focus on this album? We have a deadline!” Freddie sang, very excited.

“We could stay in the deadline if he came to the studio before ten, and not after ten,” whispered the drummer in John’s ear.

“You’re the worst,” John whispered back, pumping his shoulder on the blond’s.

Roger looked John up and down and refrained a smile, and walked away.

\---

Later that day Freddie requested no breaks until they finished that track recording. The main singer was tiring, but he said if they stopped they’d waste the energy the song needed.

When the song was done, John begged for a glass of water and threw himself on the couch, lying down on it. He closed his eyes, seriously thinking of taking a nap there before heading home.

“Your water, Deaky.” This made John open his eyes, and he saw Roger with a glass of water, handing for him.

John sat up straight, to drink the water. It was at the perfect temperature, refreshing and cool, so he hummed while drinking it. He almost didn’t register that Roger sat next to him. When he was putting the empty glass on the table he felt something fluff touching his forehead.

He looked up and saw Roger cleansing his forehead with a small towel.

“Mate, what are you doing?” John asked, confused.

“Well, you’re sweating,” Roger said, smiling.

“So are you.”

“I was just trying to help you,” the blond looked away, clearly embarrassed.

Maybe John was a bit ungrateful. “Sorry, Rog. I’m just tired,” he clapped on Roger’s leg, squeezing it slightly. Roger looked at his action, and the bass player could see he’s frowning.

When he looked at John again, Brian appeared, with a tired expression. “No, Freddie, I’m not going to drink with you. I have class tomorrow morning.”

“Of course you have, you dead dog!” Freddie rolled his eyes, and with a more cheerful smile, he turned to John and Roger. “Let’s go to a pub, darlings? Lighten up our night?”

“Not today, Freddie,” said John, standing up.

Roger did the same. “Sorry, Freddie, but all I need tonight is my bed.”

“Rog, you’re being a bit lazy, I must say. It’s been some months since you bragged about some conquer,” The oldest man showed a naughty look. “Hmm, maybe someone is in love!”

Brian and John laughed with it, and they saw Roger getting disconcerted with his friend’s statement, and in the end the blond gave a weird laugh.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to sleep after you took all my energy, mate,” he just said.

John found it amusing that Roger didn’t deny what Freddie said.

\---

After a nice night of sleep, John came very early to the studio. He wanted to try some new bass riffs without Brian lecturing him. When he passed the front door he heard, far away, a laugh, and he was surprised to find that Roger was already at the studio too.

Unusual, but good either way. He could use the drum beats to help him to build the riffs.

When the brunet reached the studio booth, only one of the roadies was there. He said Roger was making some coffee for him, and he left too.

John grabbed his bass and plugged it in the amp, ready to start. He was with the lyrics of Brian’s song in his hands, but he forgot to bring a pen to mark the tempo. He looked around the room, to find a missing pen, and he saw one in an open book. 

He was just going to grab the pen and go back to his seat, but he saw Roger’s handwriting in the paper. It was Roger’s journal.

No, John never was the type of person that looked at someone else’s personal stuff, but he was clearly curious. No…It was his bandmate’s private journal. He couldn’t peek.

The bass player was already moving around when he saw at a glance his nickname. If he saw John he wouldn’t mind, since it’s a very common name, but he saw ‘Deaky’. Okay, Roger’s handwriting was very weird to read, but John definitely saw his nickname.

Letting aside all the good manners his mother taught him, John sat in a chair and looked at the page that the journal was opened to. 

_Tuesday, 03 of September, 1974_

_Mom called and asked me to visit her. Boring college test. Spent the rest of the day at the studio. Made some nice beats. Freddie almost killed us with a very long recording. Deaky was incredibly cute today, almost asked him out. Fooled myself in front of him – again!_

John had to read three times to process that Roger wrote that he’s cute and that he wanted to ask him out yesterday.

No, it couldn’t be Roger, his three years long bandmate, the Casanova band. _No way_. He was straight. Roger never showed interest in men. 

“Is that my journal?” This made John tear his eyes away from the paper and he saw Roger in the door, a mix of surprise and fear on his face.

“Roger...” John could feel his face getting hot. “I-I just wanted a pen...I didn’t want to – ”

“Did you read something?” Roger closed the door, his voice trembling.

John’s mind, always a skeptical one, started to wonder if that wasn’t a very mean prank made by the blond. He tried to peek at his journal, so in revenge Roger wrote something to make him strained.

Maybe Roger knew that John’s heart skipped a beat everytime they shared a glance.

“Did you?” insisted Roger, and even that his eyes were oddly shy he moved, walking closer.

“Sorry.” John spoke lowly.

The drummer blinked, surprised. “So…Did you not mind?”

“Not mind what?” John looked at him, puzzled.

“That I…That I fancy you.”

John let out a weird laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

Roger looked down, seeing where’s the open page, and stared back to the brunet. “Did you not look at the rest of the journal, then?”

“Of course not! I told you, it was an accident!”

Roger giggled, touching his neck ashamed. John hated when he did this; he looked extra handsome this way. “I allow you to read it.”

John looked at him, embarrassed, and then started to flip through the pages.

_The hotel is shitty. At least I shared a room with Deaky. He looks adorable when he sleeps, even that he snores a bit too loud. The gig was good. Some people complimented us. Felt good with it._

_New album. Don’t know what the name is, but it’ll come someday. Brian complained about tempo – I know more than him about the bloody tempo! John backed me up on this. Wanted to kiss him even more after that._

_Freddie tried to teach me how to cook. He’s worse than me. Deaky saved us, making dinner for us. Drank a lot tonight. Probably said that I loved Deaky for him. Hope I didn’t._

John quickly saw all the pages. Almost every day in the last six months there was something about him, mostly Roger saying how much he wanted to date the brunet. In the end, he looked at today’s page.

_Wednesday, 04 of September, 1974_

_Goals for today:_

_Not punch Freddie_

_Ask John out_

_Not let the rest of the band know about it – they will annoy you to the end of time!_

John giggled with the last memo. He looked to Roger, who seemed nervous, and he bit his own lower lip. “Tell me that’s not a bloody joke.”

Roger frowned, opening his mouth. “John! That’s not a thing to joke about! Also you’re my mate. What the hell?”

“It’s that… you never showed interest in a male,” John raised an eyebrow.

The drummer took a step forward, standing in front of John, and showed a pure smile. “That’s because you’re the first. And to be fair I don’t want another one.”

“Roger Taylor, a romantic, how about that.” John teased.

With hesitant moves, Roger slowly put his hands on John’s waist, and he looked questionating to the bass player, and John gave up, and smiled. And smiling back, the drummer pulling him closer, the brunet wrapping his hands on Roger’s neck.

“You never answered me. If you minded me fancying you,” Roger spoke in a light tone.

He was already there, around the drummer’s arms, but it needed a final touch.

John leaned his lips until finding Roger’s.

The blond hummed, content, when the bassist’s soft lips gave him a warm and long peck, and moved to deep the kiss, parting them. John accepted, fitting his upper lip between Roger’s lips, and the brunet let a sound escape out of his throat when the other man sucked slowly. His hands played with the neck hair of the drummer, sometimes his fingertips brushed along his skin, and he felt Roger giving squeezes on his waist.

It was a question on John’s mind, if his bandmate’s kiss was _all that_. Now he knew it was. He could feel himself want to stay in that kiss, savoring Roger, feeling his softness. He moved his hands to his face, caressing the blond’s cheeks during the kiss.

He let a smile appear when he pulled away, breathing again.

“I think I made myself very clear,” John pointed, smirking.

“Did you? I don’t think so,” Roger temptly squeezed John’s chin, clearly happy.

“Oh, really?” John was already getting closer again.

“Maybe another kiss can clear it out,” Roger bit his lip, leaning in too.

“Yeah, maybe...”

“Good morning, mates!” Brian exclaimed, getting into the room.

Roger and John had less than a second to step away from each other. The bass player sat again in the chair, and Roger took his journal and started to walk to the couch, opening the journal again.

“Where’s Freddie?” the guitar player asked, rolling his eyes, already annoyed.

“I wouldn’t wait for him until noon,” spoke John. “Roger, this pen is yours?”

John walked to the drummer’s direction, showing his pen in hand.

“Oh, yeah, Deaky, thanks,” Roger tried to not smile too widely.

John leaned to the drummer, who got confused, and he wrote a ‘yes’ in front of ‘Ask John out’. The bassist winked quickly at him and left the pen in the middle of the paper.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t know how they managed to, but John and Roger were dating for six months without their bandmates knowing. It was a bit fun to find excuses for going home together or to not accept a visit from the main singer or guitarist (mostly because they were at each other’s house). John had a good laugh one time when Roger hid himself behind his bed when Brian appeared at the bassist’s flat without telling him.

During the first couple of months the brunet couldn’t deny it was amusing, and a bit hot, to juggle between everything – it still was – but sometimes John silently questioned why they were trying so hard to not let their two bandmates discover them.

They couldn’t say they would be kicked out of the band because of it, since Freddie was openly gay and Brian didn’t care less of it. They didn’t have anything to be afraid of – at least inside the band.

So, John wondered why they were hiding themselves from the people who would support them the most.

“What’s happening in that head, Deaky?” asked Roger.

They were at the blond’s flat, preparing to watch Roger’s favorite movie, The Clockwork Orange, and the drummer got back from the kitchen with a bowl with popcorn. John saw him five minutes ago and somehow he managed to forget how breathtaking the other man was.

Roger sat at the couch and called John with his finger, with a sinful smile. John blushed, but shifted closer and put himself between the blond man’s legs, resting around Roger’s chest. The drummer gave him a warm kiss on John's cheek, making him melt inside, and put the bowl of popcorn on the brunet’s lap.

“You always make this face when you’re in deep thought,” Roger commented, caressing his long hair.

“Do I?” John tried to play dumb. “I never noticed.”

“Of course, because you’re the one who’s doing it,” giggled Roger.

John laughed too. “True. Well, I was just thinking that I said I’d stay the weekend here, but I have a lot of college paper to do, and all my books and notebooks were at my place.”

“That’s fine, we can go there after the movie. I have to buy some groceries anyway, maybe I’ll make a nice dinner for you,” the drummer hugged him by his waist, a goofy smile on his face.

Shit, he’s fallen very hard for that blond. “You know your cooking isn’t the best.”

“How dare you?” Roger mockingly gasped. “I take back my invitation. You can go home, and forget about your ride there.”

John laughed, and moved his face up, so he could kiss Roger. The drummer’s façade fell off immediately, letting himself be kissed, opening his mouth in a sensual way, enjoying how John invested in him, and he held the bass player’s face to linger the kiss.

“Liar,” Sang John, smirking.

“Okay, okay, let’s watch the movie.” Roger gave him a last peck on the lips when the movie started.

\---

John always was an insecure man, about everything: about his own skills, about his intelligence, even about his looks. He never understood when people said they thought he was cute. The bassist thanked them, but never truly believed them.

And now, being with Roger, he really couldn’t understand what made someone like Roger – so gorgeous and funny and smart and interesting – notice him. And want to kiss him. And want to spoon him at night. 

John was looking to the wall, not being able to sleep, feeling Roger’s breath at his neck and ear, and hating himself for not shutting the deprecating thoughts of his mind.

Why was Roger with him? What did he see in him? Is this some type of experiment, just to see how it would be like, so he could get back and stick just with women?

Not to mention the question that kept ringing in his brain: Why didn't Roger open up about them to Brian and Freddie? Was he ashamed of dating John? Would it be an easier way when they eventually break up?

No, John shook his head slightly. He was wrong. He wasn’t blind, Roger was always smiling in the kindest way for him, a smile he never saw him showing to anyone else. And when they were alone he couldn’t stop kissing – sometimes John needed to ask him to cool down. And there’s that bright shine on the drummer’s blue eyes. It’s like a summer clear sky, beautiful and comforting.

John carefully took himself out of the hug and looked to the blond. He was too good for him, then why couldn't he believe he’s dignified enough to be with Roger?

If there’s a way he could know for sure what Roger’s feelings for him… 

His suffering eyes landed at the journal in the nightstand. A couple of hours ago Roger was writing on it. John hit his lower lip. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t… 

John stretched himself to get the journal, making a big effort to not wake Roger up. Fuck, he’s being a very bad boyfriend, looking for the second time his private journal without his permission.

The brunet stared the notebook for several minutes, thinking if he should. John could know the answer for his questions, but he didn’t know if he wanted to know. What if Roger wrote that he wanted to dump him as soon as he could? What if he wrote about a potential crush? What if…

“John?” the drummer spoke, making John jump in surprise. He’s still a bit sleepy, but he managed to turn on the light. And he saw his journal at John’s lap.

Fuck. He definitely would break up with John right now, the bassist could feel it by the way the blond was frowning his forehead.

“We already have this conversation, Deaky, if you want a journal, I buy you one,” Roger squeezed his eyes, a lazy smile appearing.

John was still shaking from being caught.

“Okay, now you can tell me what's going on,” Roger sat up on the bed, more awake, seeing John still motionless.

“Why are we hiding?” that’s the first thing that came out of the brunet’s mouth.

Roger blinked, surprised. “Well, because I thought it’s funny to trick Freddie and Brian.” He watched John look down and got worried. “It’s not for you?”

John let out a tiny laugh. “It is, but not all the time. Sometimes I think… I think you’re ashamed of what they would think if they knew you’re with me.”

“What would I?” 

“Because I’m a man, and I’m not like you,” he whispered. 

“Damn right, you’re not like me,” Roger took John’s hands, and the brunet looked up. The drummer was smiling at him. “You’re way better, in any way. You’re wiser, and funnier, and hotter.”

John giggled, his cheeks red. “Yeah, right.”

“By the way thanks for updating me that you’re a man.”

John giggled. He didn’t know what he did to deserve that man in his life.

“Why do you think I try so hard to make all these jokes? To keep you interested in me.” Now Roger was the one blushing. 

John couldn’t believe it. Roger had self-esteem issues… about him?

“Roger, I thank every day for being with you,” John kissed him quickly, smiling. “I have never been happier.”

“If you don’t like the hiding thing we can tell Freddie and Brian about us tomorrow,” Roger nodded. “I’ll give you a big kiss on the mouth. With tongue.”

John could feel his eyes glowing with the drummer’s words. “Only a statement is necessary, Rog.”

“Are you sure?” he wiggled his eyebrows, teasing the other man.

“I’m sure,” John bit his lip. “Well, my real problem was that… I’m not sure about how you feel about me. If this is just a fling.”

“And that’s why you were about to read my journal?” questioned the blond, not sounding really upset with it. John just nodded. “Go read what I wrote last Friday.”

The bass player felt a bit weird to open his boyfriend’s journal, but after a strong nod from the blond, he opened the journal, looking for the page of the ninth of May. He quickly found it and started to read.

_Friday, 09 of May, 1975_

_Finally settled all my things at home. Freddie called, in three months will record the new album. Tried some lyrics but they are garbage. John will spend the weekend with me. Watched The Clockwork Orange with him – the movie remains excellent. Thinking of saying the three words for him this weekend._

_Already should’ve been said, never found the right moment. Hope he feels the same._

John’s heart was beating fast in his chest. He looked to the drummer, who had expectant eyes on him. 

_Hope he feels the same._ How could he not feel the same, when Roger just kept being gentle and caring with him?

John put the journal at the nightstand and moved to Roger, capturing his lips, with desire. Roger gasped around him, but soon kissed him back, holding himself on the brunet’s shoulders, moving according to his motions, humming slowly when John bit his mouth deftly. The bass player always surprised him, sometimes being savage, sometimes being soft, making him every day more addicted to his own flavour.

In a fast move, Roger put John on his lap, squeezing his waist with want, and the bassist moaned, feeling pressure between his legs.

Moving his lips away, John smiled widely. “I love you. So much.”

Roger cupped John’s face, his blue eyes sparkling. “I love you too, Deaky. Please, never doubt that, ever again.”

John kissed his forehead, softly. “Sorry for… you know…”

“Messing on my stuff?” teased Roger.

“Yeah. I should’ve talked with you, like an adult.”

“You should, but that’s okay. You still want the announcement tomorrow? The promise stands.”

John showed a playful smile. “That’s fine. Let’s see for how long we can keep this.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved to write this piece

They were at a farm, trying to record an album that’s, so far, the most challenging they have made. Most notably, because they’re having divergent opinions about their bandmates.

“You really sat down and wrote ‘I’m happy at home’, Deaky?!” Brian was astonished. “We’re still a bloody rock ‘n’ roll band, mate.”

“Well, that’s a guitar solo in the song,” said John.

“And how the hell did you write this? You didn’t even have a girlfriend.”

Roger had to hide his face, pretending he’s fixing the height of the drum cymbal, or else his bandmates would see the strong blush on his face and Brian and Freddie would figure the inspiration for the ballad.

“I don’t need to have a girlfriend to write about love,” John alleged, clearly avoiding saying he wasn’t in love. Because he was very much in love.

The problem was, since all the Queen members were in the same house, trying to make that album, it’s being so difficult for John and Roger to be together. Of course they could steal kisses for each other when they passed from one room to another, and having quick make out sessions when they were alone, the danger of being caught as a bonus to turn them on, but they didn’t have sex yet. Their bedroom doors creaked every time they opened it, making it difficult for them to sneak out unnoticed, and their beds made a lot of noise even when they just lay down alone, so probably wasn’t a good idea to have two persons above them. 

Besides, Roger couldn’t be quiet even if it was to save his life.

“I miss you,” whispered Roger, when the four of them were at the pool, Freddie and Brian at the other side while Roger was in it, next to the bass player, who only had his legs inside the warm water.

“I’m right here,” smiled John, amused.

“You know what I mean,” Roger touched his calf underneath the water. “I’d kill them just for one hour in your room.”

John swallowed dry, a heavy feeling under his belly. He missed Roger’s touch too.

“This water is so good, right, darlings?” Freddie was getting closer to them.

Roger released John’s calf and looked to his friend, with a casual smile.

“It is,” Roger said, and started to swim to the other edge of the pool.

Freddie giggled, and turned to John. “He’s avoiding me because of his car-fucking song.”

John laughed softly. Above all the crazy things they were doing for this album Roger’s track about how he loved his car was making the rest of the band lose their minds – Freddie using a kazoo for a song was a soft problem compared to that.

The lyrics were very…intense, to say at least, and for they could see the british music critics already writing that the Queen drummer liked to have affairs with cars, or, as the song suggested, ‘on your grease gun’.

John teased his boyfriend with it, and Roger accepted it with humour, but Freddie and Brian were very aggressive with him, saying that he needed another song to put in the album, because according Freddie he wouldn’t allow the song of his life to be in the same album as ‘this monstrosity’.

The bass player could see how Roger was holding himself to not lose it.

“I think you should think a bit more. Let him have it,” John spoke, trying to help his boyfriend.

“I thought a lot in the moment I put my eyes on the lyrics. All the ten seconds of it were highly used,” Freddie fumed. “BoRhap won’t be next to that.”

“You let me put Misfire in an album.”

“The song was clearly about fucking a human being.”

John rolled his eyes. This feud will linger for a good time.

\---

When the bassist entered the studio he heard the yelling.

“How can you be so selfish, Freddie? You never let me have a song in an album!” Roger seemed really frustrated.

“I let you have songs about girls and rock and being a weird teen, but not a love song about ‘a machine of a dream’, blondie!” exclaimed Freddie.

“I’m with Freddie in this one, mate.” Brian gave him a disconcerted smile. “It’s not a good song for us.”

“I didn’t mind when you wrote about fucking Peaches,” Roger aggressively pointed to the guitar player, and then turned to Freddie. “And I bloody helped you with all your weird songs, but mine is ‘not a good song for us’? That’s a lot of bullocks!”

“I just want a song that will give us money, not make us be banned from countries because of your… sexual preferences,” Freddie hissed, looking outraged.

Roger was heavily red, full of anger, and John didn’t know what to do. “That’s it,” the drummer walked in the room, opened an empty cupboard and put himself on it, closing its doors.

John widened his eyes, not believing what his boyfriend just did, and from the shock that he fit in that cupboard.

“I won’t let myself out of here until you two respect me and my music,” Roger’s voice was now echoed through the furniture.

“It's a bit hard to respect you when you’re having a tantrum inside a cupboard, mate,” joked Brian, making Freddie laugh loudly. Roger groaned angrily inside of there.

“You two aren’t being easy with him,” John complained, tired. “He’s our bandmate, you shouldn’t treat him like that.”

“He’s not the softest man on Earth, Deaky,” commented Freddie, leaving the room, with Brian following him.

John watched the two men go to the living room, and then he walked to the cupboard, knocking on it. “Babe, please, get out of there. It’s pointless to argue with Freddie right now.”

“No, I’m not backing down on this!” assured Roger. “I’m a part of this band too. I need to be heard.”

The sound of the mic in the studio booth getting turned on made John look back. Freddie and Brian were in the booth, the guitar player wearing a mix of concern and guilt on his face, and the main singer was triumphant with something.

“Well, Taylor, since you don’t want to get out of this cupboard, I can have a little time to read your embarrassing stories here,” Freddie teased, and showed something on his hand.

John got scared in a second; that’s Roger’s journal.

“Fuck. Freddie, don’t do this,” John begged.

But the main singer didn’t mind him, flipping through the pages. “Let me see, let me see… Ah, ‘Monday, 15th of September, 1975. Recording the album all day, still trying to write something good, and I’m feeling I’m almost there.’”

Maybe Roger finally realized what’s going on outside and he got out of the cupboard. He saw, with widened eyes, Freddie with his personal journal in hands.

“Fuck off, Freddie, that’s not cool!” Roger barked, more upset than before.

“Oh, hello, dear.” Freddie smirked, glad that he won. “You’re so easy to annoy, blondie.”

Brian was next to Freddie and frowned. “Uh, Freddie, what the hell is next to that?”

“What?”

“‘Most of the day I kept thinking about Deaky’s arse. How soft and round it is, and in the sound of slapping that bum...’” Brian sounded more shocked with every word he recited.

Freddie opened his mouth, agaped, and looked down, to see by himself.

John turned to Roger and slapped his arm, mockingly disgusted. “Ugh, how dare you, Rog? Are you creeping me out? I’m your mate!”

Roger blinked at him, confused. “What the –”

“Wait, but…” Freddie was intrigued. “The way he wrote… It seems like he knows John’s arse. Like intimately.”

Freddie and Brian shared a glance and then looked through the studio booth glass to the rhythm section. Even with the dark glass they could know Roger and John blushing.

“Are you two doing it?” Brian’s expression couldn’t be more dazed.

Freddie was out of words.

John just shrugged, and grabbed the drummer’s hand, linking their fingers. Roger smiled passionately at him.

“Oh my God!” chanted Freddie. “I can’t – How I never noticed?”

“Well, we’re very good at hiding it,” giggled the brunet. 

“But why, exactly?” Brian remained with trouble to cross the points.

“For amusement,” Roger gushed.

Freddie and Brian went back to the studio, feeling their bandmates’ happy faces.

“Before you can say anything, it’s not just sex,” John said, and resting his head on Roger’s shoulder. “We love each other.”

“I need details. How, when, where, how many times and why you never told me? We could’ve gone to so many clubs together,” Freddie threw it, now amazed.

“Only if you consider my song as a B-side for your opera single,” Roger smirked.

“Not in this lifetime, darling.”

“I’m going back to the cupboard!”


End file.
